Peace Will Come: The ghost in you he don't fade
by vkdemon
Summary: Zombie apocalypse: Kurt gets bitten. Dave can't bring himself to to kill him.  WARNINGS! CHARACTER DEATH ! Lots of them. Graphic Violence, Blood, Gore, solo, necrophilia overtones.


**Title:** Peace Will Come: The ghost in you he won't fade.  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> unrequited Kurt/Karofsky  
><strong>Rating:<strong> NC-17  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> CHARACTER DEATH~! Lots of them. Graphic Violence, Blood, Gore, solo, necrophilia overtones.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~7700  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Zombie apocalypse: Kurt gets bitten. Dave can't bring himself to to kill him.

**AN:** This is for the Kurtofsky reverse big bang. Inspired by images by thesecretmichan  
>http: i . imgur . com / YbX1C . jpg  
>http: i . imgur . com / WIta2 . jpg  
>http: i . imgur . com / iABA0 . jpg

**AN:** Much love to Erin for getting me through a particularly frustrating transition scene and being the best cheerleader. More love then I can possibly say for my lovely beta Lea who was given this at almost 11pm the day before the deadline. You are the best lovey!  
><strong>Another AN:<strong>If you're interested I can post the song list of what I listened to in order to write this

/

It hadn't started in Lima. These kinda of things never started in tiny fuck-nowhere towns like Lima. Sure it would be convenient for an end-of-days situation to occur somewhere it could be contained, but this wasn't a video game. It wasn't a Halloween prank and it wasn't a movie. It was life. It had started in New York. There were lots of theories about how it had all come to be. Some said immigrants, some said underground fetish communities, other claimed government tests. Truth was nobody fucking knows a thing.

And nobody cares anymore.

The cops had tried to contain it. It had only resulted in bullet vest protected hordes. At least they tried. The government had reacted with the same urgency and accuracy that they had for Hurricane Katrina, like privileged fuckwads. What would have happened if the infestation had started on Park place instead of Harlem? Well there would be a lot less people dead. It probably would never have even touched Lima.

But it did.

It came after the Internet crash. No one was sure when it would happen, no one was sure the day or time or place. End of the damned world. Except it was Lima, they stuck their heads in the sand and kept going like nothing was happening, like the world wasn't falling apart. Prom came, everyone waited for their paperwork for college, others got their local jobs. Jacob Ben Israel was able to patch a satellite in to podcast his blog. He became the only outlet to the world. His gossip rag slowly began to interweave it's broadcasts with news from the outside.

Dave Karofsky lifted the tire from the Durango as Burt turned up the radio. He'd been working at the tire shop since the middle of senior year when the shop needed extra hands. Burt wasn't as naive as the rest of Lima. He'd started to take exchange instead of cash, did free upgrades and maintenance. He was slowly converting the cars of the town into more defensible vehicles. They both paused their work as the nasal voice pushed over the room.

"Greetings Lima denizens. This is your daily update from the only news dog. Top on our list is news from New York. As you know we have been out of contact for a very long time, but we got some news. A short broadcast was blasted over my channels early this morning. It was in Morse. It reads simply. 'blockade broken. They are coming. They are coming.' I will be on the air waves as long as I can to give updates. Israel out."

Dave looked to Burt, looking for instructions, a plan something. The man nodded and looked over to Dave. "We knew this would happen. Alright call the boys."

The boys were the collection they'd gathered. Finn of course as Burt's son was one of them. He had taken up boarder patrol on the days that he wasn't helping with the supply runs. Finn had stopped talking after Rachel had left for New York. They'd fought, cried, and he'd begged for her not to leave. This had been right after the Internet crash, no one knew the truth of what had happened in New York. She was going to win a Tony and no horde of the undead was going to stop her. She left with a shotgun a machete and a pickup truck to face them down. No one could blame Finn for stopping his voice, she had loved it so much. When Dave spoke into the radio that went out to the car he knew that Finn would hear him. "News from Jacob. Get home."

The next boy was Puck. The man had been living and eating at Carole's since he was a child. When the events went down his assimilation into the family had been instant. Puck was the first to gather guns, to argue for a boarder patrol, to start living for survival. He had started traveling to other towns. Puck sometimes returned with people, sometimes with news, other times with supplies. Sometimes he wouldn't talk, he'd stare at the walls and they all knew that something had happened on the outside. Those nights Finn would come, they'd sit back to back and say nothing.

"News came in. You need to get home."

"No way I'm coming home for another 'sunblock and moisturization' pep-talk." Puck's dry humor came through, allowing Dave's smile to crack.

"Not from Kurt. Israel got through to New York."

The other side was quiet for a moment he thought Puck was too stunned to talk. "Knew the crotch head was good for something. Be there in 5."

The final boy of Burt's boys was Kurt. Delicate, effeminate always worried about fashion Kurt. He came home each night, still dressed in his fine clothing, with a bag over his shoulder. He went around visiting, checking in, smiling. What the fashionista did didn't sound like important work, Puck was usually the first to shout about it. Kurt never was one to back down from an argument. People needed hope he'd say, they needed something normal. He traded his voice, friendly conversation and his mechanic and sewing knowledge for supplies from the other townsfolk. Dave was never quite sure how he managed to come in with a smile, but he could never thank Kurt enough.

"Kurt. We need you to get home."

The effeminate voice crackled back at him through the walky talky. "Just one more stop. I'm just pulled up to the Berry's."

"Kurt your dad wants you home now." Dave didn't mean for the frustration to push into his voice. Kurt was always so independent, so determined to do things his way consequences be damned.

"Fine. I'll bring by the videos tomorrow. Coming home now. Over."

The communication device crackled as the other end ceased transmission. Dave sighed under his breath. Some days if was like Kurt was purposefully argumentative. He'd mentioned it once to Burt. The elder Hummel had laughed and patted Dave's shoulder. He'd never been sure how to take the reaction. When Kurt finally came back into the house the sun was beginning to set. Burt had taken up looking at the huge analog clock on West wall every five minutes as the natural light waned.

There was something about the dark that would always terrify humans. The lack of sight and the illusions it played on your senses was enough to send any human into a state of helplessness. That really was the biggest problem with it. The helplessness. Dave knew more about that than he should. Helplessness made men do terrifying things for just one shred of control, one single thing they could predict and hold close. The soft shut of the door pulled Dave from his thoughts and from the work on the Durango.

/

Burt counted them each with a small nod of his head as the boys came home. Every night before shutting down, he would circle their house, counting to make sure they were all there. Kurt sometimes laughed and gently teased his father. It was a comfort thing, to make light of a behavior that otherwise could be seen as overbearing with a touch of mental insanity.

Of course they all had a touch of that these days.

"We should leave." Tina's usually goth-punk clothing worked shockingly well given the multitude of belts and slings she'd turned into bandoleers and holders for supplies.

"No we build a wall." Puck insisted.

"What's that going to do?"

"Like the great wall of China." Puck said the Finn-feeling comment, knowing Finn couldn't say it for himself.

"Didn't the Buns break through?" Brittany supplied with an easy smile. "Buns are yummy. We should definitely let them in."

As usual the tension broke, smiles and shakes of heads went around as they pondered over the question with less heat. The glee club had formed a little legion of hopefuls and defenders. A few had left, Rachel for Broadway, Mike with his parents to China, Sam to his family in Kentucky, and Lauren to join the army to fight.

Still, they left spaces open. Like the one to Kurt's left for the man who never decided to join them, Blaine.

"We defend our home." It was the voice of Kurt and no one argued.

/

With a message like 'They are coming' you would expect to be descended on in a matter of days. No instead they had time. First came the question of how large their defenses should be. Finn by way of Puck wanted to encompass all of Lima. It was a good plan, except residence were fleeing every day. The amount of people they could have patrolling the wall dwindled and the defensible space only made up of about 3 blocks. They decided to use the Hummel's as their center of command. Dave and Puck worked side by side in the blazing sun, beginning to dig the trenching for their grand wall.

Puck had always been the one with the raunchy jokes, the quick smirk and the easy buddy-buddy mentality. Dave was more hidden in himself. Slower to laugh slower to smile. Yet out in the sun, digging dirt the two men came to a middle ground.

"Guys you'd go gay for? Go." Dave chuckled, watching Puck smirk to the challenge.

"Hummel. If I'm going to gay might as well go for the almost girl. "

"I don't think he bottoms." Dave chuckled, finding it easier and easier to be himself as school and normal life slipped further away.

"Bullshit."

"No, think about it man. He's high and mighty, always looking down at everyone. He's stubborn as hell and will go toe to toe with any jock in this school. I don't think he'd be able to give up enough control to let another guy use his body."

"Nasty. Damn kind of makes me proud of him." Puck paused, looking up from his shoveling. "I bet you take it."

"What?"

"I bet you take it. Like you bottom. You always looked for approval man. Always looking around at what all the other guys were doing before acting. You're a total follower. Which means you'd bend the hell over."

"So? I'd like to get a chance at both. And all the other kinds of gay sex too."

"More sex is always better in my book man." Puck pulled out his water and drank before tossing it to Dave for a gulp. "Hugh Jackman."

"Wolverine... yeah that's pretty hot."

"Of course it is. It's Fucking Wolverine! What about you? Chicks you'd go straight for?"

"Let's see. Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge."

"Seriously, you have got to stop letting Kurt pick the movies. That movie is so damn gay."

"It's about a whorehouse... "

"With Madonna music, case closed."

"You're such an asshole."

"Ditto man."

The both laughed, going back to their work. Soon the sky painted with the falling sun and the two were heading back into home, dirt covering their bodies and the white of their teeth shining through. Right before they turned onto the porch of the Hummel house, Puck spoke again.

"Finn. If it would bring him back."

Dave didn't have a chance to ask before Puck walked into the house, immediately sitting next to Finn. He began talking animatedly, as if Finn was responding back to him. He nodded to Burt before heading into the shower. What wouldn't he do to keep Kurt from shutting down like that... He couldn't think of a single thing too big

/

The wall was steadily building, not a whiff on the wind of any invasion. There was talk, there was always talking going on. Some people were talking that it was a hoax. Some spoke of raiding Israel's bunker to demand his sources. No one ever did. Instead Burt with his steady voice of reason extended an offer over the hamm radio to give Israel shelter with them, strength in numbers. It was turned down, Israel wanted to be of use as an early warning beacon. He was in contact with a few others like him dotted around the country. Dave wasn't sure he'd ever realized the bravery it took to be Jacob Ben Israel before that day.

Somehow Kurt's soft high voice took over the radio check-ins. Burt was continually building the wall or salvaging parts, he created a generator from the parts and instructions in an old stack of 'outdoors men' s magazines. Dave had become skilled with his hands, learning as much as he could from Mr. Hummel and then adding improvements. If there was one thing that could be said for being geeky in his off time it was that it made for great practice for the end of days. He was able to be terribly clever in making innovative ways for everything to work.

Dave was up on the water tower, doing his duty as look out. The water tower was on the highest point of the town and could easily see over the whole wall and town. LIMA was painted in huge letters on the side. He wondered if there were other towns. Water towers were used for navigation, especially for small private planes. They were elevated and easily seen. Anyone passing by would be able to see the name and know where they were. His uncle had been an amateur pilot. He used to come up and repaint the tower every summer.

Dave's eyes searched out to the houses beyond the wall. Kurt's cherry red explorer sat out by Elm in what was Lima Heights adjacent. Dave groaned as he searched the streets for the thin male. Kurt always took risks like this, checking on the people who had decided to live outside of the protection of the wall. Dave thought it was a damned risk. Burt said it was reckless. Neither of their opinions changed anything.

Kurt's long legs finally appeared, a shorter stubbier pair following. Dave adjusted the binoculars, sharpening the view. The child was clutching it's arm... must have been hurt. Kurt leaned down. Dave put the binoculars to the side. Looks like Kurt had adopted another mouth to feed. They were already rationing in preparation. A child that size... 6 years old at best, would not be able to pull their weight worth the food it would consume. He could already hear Kurt's angry response. He wasn't heartless, he wasn't cruel. He was just practical.

The kid would get them killed.

/

Sure enough when Dave changed shift with Tina the sound of Hummels arguing overshadowed the entire house. Burt's rumble repeated the sentiments in Dave's head when he saw the kid from the tower. The child was sitting alone in the living room, it's eyes blank staring blood shot at the wall as the adults argued.

"Don't worry kid. Kurt always gets his way. Even if he shouldn't."

Dave sat down heavily, taking his heavy boots off one by one. There was not a sound from the child, not a single one. Dave groaned. Great a mentally disabled kid. Worse then just a normal useless child, one that needed extra time and energy. Fucking horrible... moan? Did the kid just moan?

"Do you speak? Yo comprende?" He thanked the almost useless Mr. Shuester for that bit of bi-lingualism.

The child said nothing.

"Fan-fucking-tastic"

Kurt stormed out of the kitchen, in a storm of self-righteous indigence. Dave opened his mouth and instantly the fashionista snarled.

"Not a word Karofsky. She's my responsibility. I will feed her and I will care for her and you and all the other heartless men in this house won't have to do a thing!" With a whirl the child was plucked from the floor and disappeared with Kurt into his room.

"Hi Kurt." Dave spoke what his mouth had opened to say.

Kurt didn't come back out for diner. Or Breakfast. Or lunch.

"If he comes out of there Radio me. I need words with my son." Burt left for a shift on the wall while Dave kept up the project for solar energy electricity in the basement.

Dave worked for hours in the underground, the exposed bulb over his head casting the right amount of stark white light on the soldering iron in his hand. He didn't hear Kurt walk down the basement stairs, he didn't hear the click click click of his ridiculous heels on the cold concrete of the basement flooring. He heard a whimper.

He moved the iron off the panel and immediately held it to the side away from the sound. He turned to huge watering green eyes. Kurt's mouth opened, closed again and opened once more.

"She's dead."

"What?"

"The child. She's dead."

"Shit. I'm sorry Kurt."

"No Dave... She's Dead." Kurt's voice cut like glass.

"Fuck! Stay here!"

Dave didn't have time to check if Kurt obeyed as footfalls on the staircase brought them both to turn very slowly. Tiny hands groped toward them and Dave stabbed with the iron. The little fist closed around the heat. Dave watched the little girl's blood-shot eyes. It's flesh burned as it held on. That moan from before, the sound of the child never changed. It's bloodied mouth opened wide and it lunged for Dave.

"Fuck!" He let go of the iron and stumbled back, the iron remained burning into her tiny hand as she pursued.

"No!"

There was a crack. Like a coconut slamming into the ground. The child fell, it's terrible red maw opening and closing. Another crack, and another, finally a wet sound, over and over, gore flying to pattern Kurt's pale skin, matting the pigtails of what once was a child.

"Kurt stop." The hammer fell again. "Kurt it's dead!"

Dave's strong hands lifted Kurt off the body, the hammer falling to the ground as Kurt shook. "She's dead. It's over. It's over."

The smell of burning human flesh was still there. It could wait. Kurt's arms clutched his shoulders, making circles of marks into the muscle. Both of Dave's arms wrapped around Kurt. "You're safe. You saved me. It's okay."

He held the shaking boy tight, his thumbs going up and down Kurt's spine. He wished his first hug with Kurt had smelled like that vanilla cologne Kurt loved and hairspray. He wished Kurt wasn't shaking in fear. He wished Kurt wasn't covered in blood.

Quite a lot of blood actually.

Too much... all pooled on Kurt's shoulder. "No..."

"I'm Dead."

"No. No Kurt this... The wound isn't that deep. We can clean it. We can... we can burn it sterile." It can't be true. Kurt can't be bitten, can't be infected! His hands tightened on Kurt's ribs. He couldn't... "Come on you just need a shower it won't be so bad once it's cleaned..."

Except it was.

Clean, Kurt's wound contrasted his ghostly skin like an accusation. It screamed at Dave. He did this. He was should have realized the child was infected when he saw her injured arm. He should have shot her from the tower. He should have realized when she didn't talk. He should have checked on Kurt earlier...

Kurt was just standing, terrycloth robe knotted at his chest.

"What do I do?"

"We.. we can..."

"I'm going to become one of those... "

"No. I won't let that happen. We can go to the Center for Disease Control in Georgia. Isreal said they released an announcement that they were working on a cure. We have to try."

"You don't have to do anything. Dave I'm not your responsibility." Independent stubborn Hummel...

"No but I'm..." in love with you "your friend and I won't let you go alone."

"Fine. How do we tell Dad?"

"We don't. We just leave."

"I don't run away Dave. I never have and I never will. Give me time and I'll talk to him."

"Okay. I'm going to take care of you Kurt."

"Swear to me you'll kill me. If my mind's gone, swear it!"

"I swear."

/

The dinner... did not go well. Dave's leg jumped under the table, bouncing with the energy it takes to not speak. There's a dead child's body haphazardly rolled in tarps in the basement just waiting to be taken out and buried. Dave keeps hoping Kurt will waltz down in one of his ridiculous off the shoulders sweaters with his perfect pale shoulders intact. Instead he's in a harsh black high collared military jacket. It hid everything, hid the secret, their secret. He could have imagined it, but skin's skin was pale, the blue veins pressing closer to the surface, the slight tremor in Kurt's hand, but it was unlikely.

"I don't want to drag this out, but I'm leaving."

Burt stared, Puck dropped his spoon and Finn frowned deeply. Dave tried his best to keep down a hysteric little laugh. Only Kurt Hummel would announce something like this with a hand on jutted hip.

"I think this is a conversation for Hummels only."

Dave Finn and Puck headed out. Finn immediately turned, his forehead furrowed in deep upset. His palm placed flat against the dining room door. Puck's fist impacted the door frame. The man then leaned against each other's shoulders. Dave moved away. No time like the present to bury a zombie.

/

The child...thing's body was so light David had no trouble bringing it out to the large plot of land that was a half-finished Denny's long abandoned. It's packed ground had yet to be concreted over. He dropped the blue tarp encased body to the ground. The shovel over the other shoulder stuck into the ground. He glanced out to the markers. There weren't too many yet, a simple cross marked the ground under which the body of Mrs. Pillsbury lay, one of her perfectly pressed floral sweaters hung from the wood. Beside her was a hockey stick jutting from the ground. Rick "The Stick" Nelson had been entered into the ground after suffering from an accidental fall off the wall. He couldn't look beyond that one. Somewhere there was Coach Beiste and the sweet lady from Breadstix he could never remember the name of.

"I guess you were some one's daughter right?" He spoke to the body as his shovel dug into the ground. "Figure you get a proper burial no matter how you ended. Too bad you have me."

The mid-day sun drenched him with sweat and the shallow grave dug for the thing... child seemed pale in comparison. He couldn't bare to unwrap the encased gore. The small body was placed into the ground. His hand dug into the dirt piled up on the left hand side of the grave.

"I'm not to good at words little one. But my grandma used to have this needlepoint prayer. It was the only one I ever thought was any good. Maybe this will help."

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. " Dave paused, his hand opening to let the dirt hit the body. "It's not much, but I hope that if there's a God, he's forgiving.

"God knows we all need it."

/

The house was almost silent. Much like the grave Dave just left. A door slammed, the image of Kurt executing the last Diva exit from the Humdel house burned into his eyes. The tears refusing to shed on Kurt's flushed cheeks and the single bag of possessions spoke of leaving. Dave couldn't ignore it.

"Leaving?"

Kurt nodded once.

"I'll get the car."

"You don't need to come with me. I'm not helpless." Kurt snapped, the redness around his eyes increasing.

"I know that. I want to come."

"Fine. We leave in five. I don't want to be here any longer." Kurt's body pulled into the car, his forehead smoothing against the passenger side window.

/

"Just take it man." Puck, a hand wrapped in bandage, caught Dave as he left with a few supplies and clothes in a duffel.

"You guys need it more." Dave stared at the small caliber pistol pressed into his hand by Puck.

"You need to protect our Princess."

"Thank you. Dude I'm gunna miss you."

"You sound like a fucking girl."

"Says the dude crying." Dave wrapped Puck into a huge bear hug.

"Take care of him?"

"You too man."

/

Dave drove in silence, no radio stations were left broadcasting music anyhow. Kurt's tears slowed and then stopped. He pulled out his cosmetic kid and dabbed at his own. cheeks. Those long fingers smoothed the strands of hair back from his forehead.

"So Georgia. Pull out the Thomas Guide."

"Yeah, Druid Hills Georgia where the CDC headquarters lay. Only three states away. Normally It would take us about 12 hours." Kurt's voice was soft.

"Good. We'll have you in good care in no time."

No time was not in the plans. The highway was blocked by a flipped semi.

/

A single CD rolled into the next song on it's limited play list. The car gad been Kurt's and the 'seminal Broadway classic' Rent. They listened to it over and over, the songs Kurt seemed to love the most were sung over and over and Dave couldn't find the will in himself to become tired of it.

"Come on David you know the song by now." Kurt's voice accompanied the fading of the light of the first day.

"I am not singing, Fancy."

"On now you have to for calling me that."

"It's not exactly an insult."

"Just sing, David."

He obeyed, he found since his tear filled apology Junior year all he could do was obey. Kurt and Dave bantered through the Tango Maureen, enjoyed Dave's falsetto in Out Tonight, bowed to Kurt's memory of La Vie Bohem. Dave's baritone and Kurt's counter tenor blended beautifully but before I'll Cover You could end Dave's throat stopped working.

Then spent the next hour not talking, the CD stopped by an irritated jab of Kurt's slept in the car at an abandoned gas station.

/

The morning on the road and Kurt's hands were shaking. They tremored no matter how many layers he wrapped in. Almost every piece of clothing from Kurt's bag had been wrapped around the boy.

"Colder this winter then last year."

"Must be. I get cold so easily." Kurt offered, a lie for both of their minds to rest on.

Dave switched the car into cruise and offered over his right hand to place over Kurt's hands. Kurt stared at it for a long time. A soft sigh and two hands like ice wrapped around Dave's singular large hand.

"Thank you."

"No problem Kurt. We'll stop for the night on some real beds in the next town. Bad for you to be stuck in the car the whole time."

/

Kurt was slowing down. Every hour he seemed to be fading. The fights they'd had early on were ghosts of Dave's memory. Less then 3 days and he was slipping away. He had to be lifted into the house. Dave ran about, happy to find running water. He brought Kurt a tall glass, settling the boy into the master bedroom.

"Atrocious drapes." The weak boy managed as Dave tucked the covers over him.

"On your death bed and still making comments about fashion." Dave's voice was entirely warm as he petted a strand of Kurt's hair away from his eyes. Kurt flinched.

Both boys stopped, the unspoken things, the hopes and history stretched out between them. Dave leaned forward and Kurt leaned away. Dave must have let the flash of pain escape because Kurt spoke.

"Is that why you're still here?"

Dave tried not to hear the accusation. "I'm here because you're one of the best people I've ever met and I'll be fucking dead before I let this beat you."

"David... I don't have long."

"Stop that. We have plenty of time. You're going to get to the CDC and they are going to cure you!" A pained whine entered his voice.

"Okay David..." Kurt's whispering voice had no will to fight. "Okay."

Dave opened a can of beans that had been left in the kitchen He ate and the silence stretched between them. Why was he doing this? He was clinging to a hope, a tiny chance of a hope that somewhere out on those empty streets and infected hoards that someone had a solution. That someone had a chance to cure Kurt.

It was foolish, the whole thing. Kurt was dying in front of him and all he could do was drag his weakened body around.

"What do you think of staying here for a little. Just to help you get better? You're probably just fatigued from all the running around. Look it's simple. I'll stay up tonight and board up the windows. And You can get some real sleep. I saw a sports supply store when we came in. I can resupply the car, do some tune ups."

"Sounds good."

"Do you think I would have ever had a chance Kurt? If things had been different. If I hadn't been like that to you?"

"If you hadn't tortured me?" Kurt pressed his pale lips together, the water forgotten in his weak hands. "I think you could have."

"You're only saying that because I'm here with you, aren't you?"

"No. In a different life you would have been a very good boyfriend." Kurt's smile was weak but gentle."It doesn't change anything now."

"Nope... but thanks." He laid himself out on the couch pretending that it had changed things at least a little. He slept imagining sharing that last kiss.

/

They never did leave that house. Dave woke the next morning and began his usual rounds, check the barricade, forage for food, bring liquid to Kurt. He walked into the bedroom after a soft knock on the door. Kurt was curled on the bed, a hand tucked up under his pillow. Dave couldn't stop the soft and fond smile across his lips. He settled the water onto the dresser table and reached out to gently touch Kurt's hand. "Time to wake up, Kurt. I checked the map and we're on the boarder of Georgia. Not long now."

Kurt's fingers would not move.

The digits were stiff, curled into a loose fist. "Come on Kurt don't fight me." He tugged, finding no give. He then pushed two fingers against Kurt's neck. He waited, counting the seconds before realizing he's supposed to be counting heartbeats. But there aren't any.

"No!" Dave's huge hands cover Kurt's rib cage. He pushes hard on the thin structure. "No! You can't give up Hummel! We're so fucking close!"

Over and over his hands pump at the still heart. Pounding, pounding. "You can't leave me Kurt!"

"Come on you prissy little fem fag!" He screamed, his face blasted in red as the tears started. "Come on get up and tell me what a bastard I am for that. Come on Hummel!"

"Please." His hand pushed one last time as he collapsed over Kurt's still chest. "Please please. God don't take him away. Please."

He lay there, sobbing like a baby. Minutes, hours, he didn't know how long he lay. His voice was sore, his chest throbbing when suddenly the man below him moved. It was just a twitch, a spasm, but his chest began to rise and fall. Hysterically Dave laughed, clutching Kurt to his chest. "You're back. Thank God Kurt I thought I lost you."

Kurt's horrible moan, the perversion of his angel's voice rasped against Dave's sanity. "No. No God please no."

Dave shoved Kurt back, the wide mouth snapped at the air as the heat source was removed. Dave scrambled back, his wild movement smacking the water glass from the shards of broken glass sliced into Kurt's feet, blackened dried blood spread over the beige carpeting. Kurt advanced, clawed hands scraped onto Dave's wide chest. A scream ripped from Dave and his hands flashed out, shoving the boy from him to collapse onto the floor. The glass slid through Kurt's left hand, the decaying flesh easily ripped through. The jock's broad body impacted the door hard. The water glass hit the floor as Kurt's un-coordinated body hit it from the table.

Another moan and Kurt's attention turned to the blood bubbling thick from his hand. His jaw opened and his jaw snapped closed around his own fingers.

"Fuck! Kurt d..." Dave clamped his mouth shut. He was distracted for the time. He could use that. He backed slowly from the room, shutting the door behind him. Shit what to do? He hand to stop Kurt from hurting himself first. He ran into the garage, his eyes searching frantic. Rope... come on they had to have rope!

Table saw, drill, assorted screws and bolts.. His eyes found a soldering gun and he stopped dead. Burning flesh flashed through his memory. She hadn't even flinched. Kurt probably couldn't even feel the pain. Dave dropped to a knee, bile spilling forth from him. Soon it would be Kurt's head cracked open on the garage floor. Hot bile spilt once more.

He could not let that happen! He had to fix Kurt.

The rope was now eye-level, coiled sloppily under the table saw. He wiped the remaining sick off his mouth with one back of his meat paw and snatched the rope. He took out length after length of rope, the knife tucked into his belt flashing time after time as he cut 4 equally spaced lengths. He sheathed the knife and started back up the stairs.

Kurt's hand was still in his mouth, blood freely soaking his once beautiful skin. He had to fix Kurt. He couldn't let him keep hurting himself. Dave rushed Kurt, knocking the distracted boy to his side. Swiftly roped each hand with a clove hitch knot before binging then together with a square knot. He tied the end of the square knot lead to the bed frame.

Dave sank down, his hands carefully retrieving the glass. He had to clean it up. He had to fix Kurt. It would all be fine as long as Kurt was breathing. And he was breathing, see he was moaning.

He would be fine. It was just a little adjustment and Kurt would be back to normal. A soft object brushed over his palm. He took the strange red stained cylinder. The curved eggshell white on the end was shining lightly. What...

He turned it and saw fractured bone. Finger... Kurt's finger. No. He had to fix Kurt.

/

"I need to find a way to transport you."

Kurt's head turned toward the sound, red-shot eyes unseeing. Dave could see Kurt, his Kurt behind those eyes. He was there. Dave just had to get him to the CDC.

"I'm going to leave you here. I know that's not what you want but..." He sighed, wanting a come-back. Kurt had so many lines he could say if he just tried. Kurt's jaw opened wide, like a broken shelf from a kitchen cupboard.

"Wait for me right here."

/

He'd broken into plenty of places since leaving Lima. The old laws didn't really apply anymore. Breaking and entering, theft, looting... even murder all took on new meaning. It's not like the police were going to come by and arrest you if you broke a window and climbed in. Especially where he was.

The internal of the shop was dark, clearly the power had gone out some time ago. He pulled out the hand-crank flash-light he'd taken from a sporting goods store a few towns back. The front counter was your basic glass structure, cheerily displaying it's goods. Small bottles of varying colors made themselves cheerily known. There were boxes of all sorts of colors advertising the versatility of choices. The very bottom shelf reflected high off his light,the cylindrical glass structures laid all in a row like trophies. Dave could feel the heat of his cheeks rise.

His steps took him deeper into the shop. He wasn't looking for those. The shelves of bright packages with pouting painted women on the front brought him no interest. The fleshy spires caught him for a moment. He was a closeted kid from Lima. He'd only ever kissed a boy once, of course he'd get stuck for a moment. His shaking hand reached out, fingers pressing against the cheery 'Try Me' nub sticking out of the package. It was soft, springy... Was that what it would feel like inside? What Kurt would...

Dave tore his hand away from the fake flesh with a disgusted growl. This was not what he was here for. He stormed into the bowels of the sex shop searching for the section he'd come for. He had to keep Kurt safe and to do that he had to keep himself safe. Finally he reached the right place. It was a backroom. His light darted into the room, skittering over the leather suits, the rows of whips and paddles on the walls. It jolted away from a huge metal cage.

Steady Dave. It's just bondage. You've put a soldering gun through a little girl's hand. A little pain-play in sex should not be frightening. Dave shook himself, the memory sobering him instantly. He moved in to the clothing, finding a mannequin that seemed about Kurt's size. Its mouth was covered in a silver studded leather muzzle. It buckled at the back of the head. It was trapped into a leather harness. A belt with 8 sturdy metal circles had been attached. The mannequin's arms were strapped into the two on it's hips. "Doesn't look that different from your usual wear Fancy."

He unbuckled and took the outfit. He found a pretty blue leather and gem studded collar with a ring in the front. Kurt would demand nothing less than to have it match his eyes. Dave attached a leash before stuffing it into his backpack and heading back into the front of the shop.

He passed by the fleshy dildo again. "Fuck it. Who's going to care now." He grabbed it off the wall and swung by the case of lube and condoms to grab a couple bottles at random. He then let himself back out of the sex-shop toward where he'd locked Kurt in the car. They needed to get moving anyway.

/

The night had fallen hours before. The sounds of the night were around them. He's started a low fire once all of the windows were covered. He'd found a stockpile of cans in the pantry. Thank God for suburbia's obsession with buying in bulk. A can of beans was cooking on the grate over the little portable camping fire. Dave glanced up at Kurt. The other boy was leaning back against the wall, his head lolled to the side.

"I got some clothes at the store. You might slap me but I think some of them are your style." Dave smiled and began to unpack his backpack.

Each item laid on the wooden floorboards, the implication searing through him. "Don't look at me like that. It's for both of us. We're going to get you cured but I can't take care of you if I get bit."

He took the muzzle in hand. Kurt's hands were tied in front of his body, the harsh rope had cut into his skin with each of Kurt's mindless thrashing movements. Dave's fingers touched the abused wrists. Suddenly Kurt surged forward, as if the touch woke him. His mouth snapped, sharp little teeth frantic for Dave's throat.

"Fuck!" Instantly his hand went to Kurt's hair, roughly yanking him back. Those teeth gnashed at the air, the blue eyes dilated as the blood shot through the whites of his eyes pulsed. Dave shoved the muzzle over Kurt's face, buckling with only a few fumbles. Once it was secure he let go of Kurt's hair.

Kurt's face instantly fell against his neck. He could feel that jaw snapping opened as closed, unable to get at the flesh it sought. Dave sighed, letting his arms wrap around the man he loved. "It's okay. It's going to be okay." Kurt's skin was still so pale. It had taken on a grayish tone the last week or so, but it was still so lovely. He kissed that curve of his neck, the skin cold to the touch. He always suspected Kurt had poor circulation, he'd need to warm his hands as soon as September came. Dave would offer his own and Kurt would happily stick his cold hands into the space between Dave's Letterman and his shirt. Kurt would always be just that small bit playful and naughty. He'd slip his fingers under Dave's shirt, the freezing flesh causing him to jolt and let out a very immasculine sound. Kurt would snicker and offer his clever little smirk. Dave would begrudgingly let him back under and demand a kiss as payment. That was his life.. should have been his life..

Dave gently lifted Kurt's head. He pressed a kiss against the mask, the moving of Kurt's jaw like the enthusiasm of a lover. He could imagine it, pulling on the single brief terrifying muscle memory he had he imagined. Kurt's lips would be soft, tasting slightly of peach from his lip gloss.

Dave could easily see it all. At first Kurt would be shy, intimidated by Dave's bulk. He's then become more and more insistent, pushing against Dave's lips demanding entrance. Dave would grant it, of course he could deny Kurt nothing. He'd open under his lover and let the effeminate male take the lead. Kurt would deftly undo Dave's shirt, his long fingers nimble as he exposed Dave's flawed body. He'd make some comment, something small that would be both an insult and the most beautiful compliment that Dave had ever heard. His hand would feel nothing like Dave's rough large palm pressing into his pants.

Dave scooted back from Kurt's reddened eyes, away from the reality of what his Kurt now was. He took out the indulgence he'd taken for himself. He placed the crude length on the floor, it lay between them like an accusation.

"Used to think about this. About you." Dave tripped down the rest of his clothing. He slipped open the cap of the lube bottle. "I know... me, jock, big masculine guy thinking about what it could feel like under you." He began to slowly prep his ass. "I used to think about it after the kiss. That one day you were weren't going to take me bullying you anymore. You'd storm into the locker room. Always so fancy and force me to bend over the bench with just a look. I would have. I was so desperate to be near you." Dave's voice caught as he slid a second finger into himself.

"Would have been perfect. You making me spread for you. You'd show me how much of a fag I was. How I would beg and beg for your pretty cock. It's so pretty Kurt. Long and pink and... God, so perfect." He gasped as he breached himself with the toy, pushing roughly.

"And after I apologized. Fuck I wanted to offer myself, as punishment. You could be as rough as you wanted." He twisted the base and made himself sounds descended into grunts, keens of Kurt's name and explicative until his whole body tensed.

Dave panted, his seed spread across his stomach. He was quiet, his heart and Kurt's gnashing mouth against leather the only sounds. Slowly he regained enough breath to whisper.

"After Blaine left. When your dad took us all in. I heard. At night. You would cry so softly you didn't think anyone heard. But I heard. I heard and I wanted to take those tears all away. You'd let me hold you and take it all away. And.. maybe I'd cry too." Dave laughed sadly. "I should have right? What would have we lost? A little warmth in the night, our pride... Pride's gone now anyway. You're...you're gone."

He slid the substitute for Kurt out of him, letting it fall to the wood. He couldn't even let himself look at it. "I broke my promise. I said I'd kill you. But I can't. I love you... not enough I guess. Or too much."

Each step brought him closer to Kurt, each moment closer to a shell of a man he loved. "There's no hope Kurt. The CDC is too far away. I can't fight anymore. I'm fighting for a body of someone I love. I.. Kurt I'm not as strong. I need your voice to keep going. I know why Finn stopped talking. And.. Well this is just the same."

He unclasped the muzzle. "I'd do anything to bring you back. All I can do is join you."

Dave's last kiss with his first kiss tasted of blood and pain and peaches.

fin


End file.
